


an indiscretion

by peonydee



Category: Kamen Rider OOO
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Other, Series Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 23:11:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5645299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peonydee/pseuds/peonydee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>part of Gotou Shintarou's standing orders were to loosen up and have fun. he supposed meeting new people (a person) counted...</p>
            </blockquote>





	an indiscretion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mellon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mellon/gifts).



Gotou Shintarou wasn’t the type to get starstruck by celebrities. His chief for one could obviously tell, which was why Gotou had to attend some party as a security detail for the city commissioner and had to unearth his best suit, the one he reserved for funerals. He supposed the event counted as one, anyway, some post-fundraising event hosted by some political scion. He mourned the death of entire platoons of his brain cells, even as he gulped the encrusted dredge of his Guinness.

Doubtless, the amount of alcohol he had downed tonight wasn’t helping the case of his dying brain cells. His standing orders were, “Go have fun, Gotou-kun,” and, “Help yourself to as much as beer as you want and maybe that stick up yours would fall off.” They were in a predictably posh hotel, boasting a Ancien Regime French-inspired ballroom of so much gilding it could probably fund several years worth of training programs for Japan’s entire police force. Not that it mattered, as the room was barely lit, anyway, vibrating with the maxed out bass speakers.

Maybe, Gotou thought,  the strobe lights were giving him tiny, near imperceptible seizures, which was why he felt like hell and had to keep reminding himself every other minute where he was and why.

Maybe he was just a weepy drunk.

* * *

 

The bar had been his haven the entire night, as it extended far enough that the spattering of people who bothered to trek there never managed to crowd him where he sat by his lonesome. There was another guy in the party who appreciated dancing as much as Gotou. Gotou didn’t even notice him till now and only because the roving spotlight from the stage lingered on the man for a few minutes, lighting up every fiber of his rather horrendous suit of day-glo orange.

“I didn’t see you there,” Gotou told him once the obtrusive lighting moved on.

The man giggled and nearly fell off his stool in hilarity. “That’s very nice of you to say,” he said, only very slightly slurring a couple of words. “Want another beer?”

“It’s not a question of wanting it.”

“At this point, what’s another one?”

“It might be the determining factor on whether you’d spend the night in the hospital recovering from alcohol poisoning or just drop dead?”

“Good point. You have exemplary powers of reason for a drunk man, Mr..?”

“You can call me Shintarou.”

“Eiji.”

Well, what a night, Gotou thought. Already he had made a friend, first-name-basis, and if that wasn’t an indication of him loosening up, he didn’t know what else would.

* * *

 

The night started off quite tame. Hors d’eouvres and champagne circulated, followed by a silent bidding for some famous person’s hand-me-downs. Over dinner, a documentary on the contributions of the host’s family was presented, a thinly veiled propaganda for yet another son’s incipient political debut.

Not the youngest son, though, that much Gotou remembered. The youngest son had been on the news a lot lately, something about being caught in the crossfire of feuding warlords in a third world country. Why he would even screen his Great Family---for the life of him, Gotou couldn’t recall their name--Accomplishments mini film among people who could barely sustain their economy, much less donate millions to his siblings’ campaign fund, Gotou couldn’t figure. The press was all over the topic, presenting the story in a spectrum of tones. Sympathy and admiration from some camps, mockery and outrage in others. Such arrogance, Gotou agreed, to think that one could just step into another land and decide that because its children weren’t having their basic needs fulfilled, the world had to mobilize in order to fix it now!

“I hate guys like those,” Gotou told his new friend.

Eiji blinked at him through a half-empty mug, obviously needing decode each word. “Do you mean the next performers or just boybands in general?”

“No, no. That guy who’s been in the news lately.”

Even under the scant light, Gotou noticed the other man’s face fall. He had a nice face, almost comical in some ways, but somehow brave. How could a face be brave?

“You can like him if you want,” Gotou clarified impatiently. “I don’t care. Just that he’s stupid and naive.”

Eiji laughed. It was a bit strained, Gotou thought. Unlike Gotou, Eiji must be a proper guest, one of the family’s supporter. Why else would he have attended otherwise?

“It’s nice to want to help people, you know? I mean that’s why I became a cop. But when you’re an outsider suddenly coming in… Aren’t you just pushing your own way of life on that place? I mean it’s good I guess for a stranger to present another a viewpoint from another angle, but when you force people to change, that’s bad business. At the end of the day, if you pull a person with weak legs to a standing position, when you let go won’t that person just flop back down? He’s never learned to get up or carry his own weight. You know what I’m saying?”

Eiji nodded. It have been the trick of light, but Gotou thought he might be crying. See, this was what happened when Gotou relaxed too much. He’d say whatever was on his mind and that tended to upset people. Eiji might just be a weepy drunk, too.

“There, there,” he said, patting his friend awkwardly. “I don’t really hate that guy as much as I pity him. And probably envy him. I’ve lost something between now and joining police academy and I don’t know what it is. I think that person might still have it.”

At that point, Eiji just started bawling. Gotou had no choice but to grab the pup by the scruff and pat him. Gotou even tried to sing. He had never really sang enough while sober, so it wasn’t surprising that he couldn’t match the right set of lyrics to the right tune. Actually, he wasn’t sure he found the right tune even after he settled for just humming.

The vague humming seemed to have comforted his new friend to some degree, all the same. Eiji cried on Gotou’s best suit for quite some time, before dropping off to sleep.

What a night, Gotou thought, not for the first time, he suspected. There he was bullying, a perfectly congenial stranger’s ideal person. He didn’t even know this person beyond what’s bandied about by the media. Gotou’s own mistakes weren’t quite at that scale, but if placed in the same situation, he supposed he’d want second chances, too. He was lucky enough that in his idealistic youth he didn’t have access to the amount of power and influence capable of provoking armed conflict. Or being its scapegoat.

Actually, with the situation framed in such a manner, Gotou decided that the person’s circumstance was pretty shitty and maybe he wasn’t that bad after all. He told Eiji as much, though he wasn’t sure if his friend even heard him.

* * *

 

Gotou Shintarou, it turned out,  didn’t actually make it home. He managed to crawl in to work 5 minutes before his usual arrival, having no choice but to skip his morning run out of courtesy to his aching head. As far as walks of shame went, his this morning wasn’t that bad, having been a total of three feet from the courtesy limo to his precinct’s backdoor. He had woken up at a predictably posh condotel room, a new set of uniform laid out for him in the massive bathroom, with his best suit dry cleaned and zipped up in a vinyl garment bag. The uniform fit better than any of his previous uniforms ever had.

Even more predictably, he found a stupid note from his missing indiscretion:

_Dear Shintarou,_

_I hate guys like him, too. I know I shouldn’t, but it’s one of those things one would have to learn to let go on their own._

_I think I, too, have lost something that guy used to have and maybe I need it back in order to start moving from where I stand. I’m terribly stuck, you know? For good or ill, I want it back, so I’m taking a trip. I’ll retrace my steps and maybe one day I’ll find it, this thing we lost._

_I took the liberty of taking one of your cards and leaving mine in exchange. I don’t know when I’ll be back, but maybe we can have a drink again._

_Hino Eiji_

_P.S. I don’t remember if something happened after you were kind enough to sit with me through that. Please don’t worry, as that doesn’t seem to be the case. It would have been a shame otherwise, not remembering.  Next time, I’ll listen to you and not drink quite as much._

031515

**Author's Note:**

> written for an [au ficlet meme](http://molliehooper.tumblr.com/post/92926602904/send-me-a-ship-and-a-number-and-ill-write-a-short-fic) from tumblr, prompt: 17. meeting at a party whilst drunk AU - Gotou/Eiji  for a friend


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